


The View from Med-bay

by Elendiliel



Series: A Medic's Guide to the Galaxy [5]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendiliel/pseuds/Elendiliel
Summary: Some people get to be famous heroes; some fix engines or bandage wounds or make tea. The Resistance, like every army, needs plenty of both kinds. This is how certain key events in the war against the First Order might have looked from the perspective of a medic with one or two unusual talents.
Series: A Medic's Guide to the Galaxy [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954132
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sanctuary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006582) by [CaptainXcamino](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainXcamino/pseuds/CaptainXcamino). 



> Some Force-nonsense ahead. Please let me know if it makes too little sense.

In theory, being in functional charge of a whole department should be a great honour, especially for someone barely into their twenties. On this occasion, though, Nurse Elinor Mary Kirsten Macnab, the youngest member of the Resistance’s medical corps and therefore said department’s lowest form of pond life, was pretty sure it was just to keep her out of trouble while everyone else prepared to evacuate. They had enough problems without her getting involved. She didn’t mind. Her one patient, a young man about her own age, was no trouble whatsoever. He’d been brought in a few hours before, unconscious, with moderate plasma burns and what was informally called _sabre shock_. The former were healing nicely, and should be gone in less than a day; the latter just required rest. That suited her; it gave her brain-space to work through the busiest day she could remember, which was saying something.

Things had started heating up when a shout had come in from Takodana, which quickly escalated to an all-pilots deployment, which effectively meant all-medics as well. Even if they weren’t physically injured (and fighter pilots tended to be ridiculously healthy or stardust), returning soldiers generally appreciated a mug of tea or caf and an open ear, and Elinor could always supply at least one of those. Nurses are trained to listen, and she had a knack for making good tea. It was all about timing. When to put the kettle on; how long to let it cool; the all-important brewing time. She also had an instinct for blends and flavourings, types and quantities of milk, and amounts of sugar. Some Force-sensitives wielded sabres and levitated ships; she was a mistress of the kettle and teapot. Much safer, and less trouble than her _other_ gifts…

On the subject of tea, the mug beside her (she’d treated herself to a “builder’s brew”, tarine, strong and very sweet; not generally her drink of choice but she needed it) had reached a comfortable drinking temperature. She applied Part A (the tea) to Part B (her mouth) while the day’s files continued to shuffle themselves into place. After Takodana, and the heart-shattering destruction of the Hosnian system at the same time, there had been the recon mission to scout out Starkiller Base. Something must have gone awry, because the base had followed them home. The desperate, kill-or-be-killed scramble for survival had cost so many lives. She’d felt them streaming past her, Resistance and First Order both. It was impossible to tell which was which, and pointless to try. Pain and fear are universal. Despite all Leia’s warnings about not drawing attention to herself, despite the distorting presence of Kylo Ren, she’d reached out to as many as she could, easing pain, allaying fear, letting the dying know that they would never truly be alone. It was practically a reflex. The hard part had been keeping it a secret from her colleagues. Only Leia knew what she was, and Elinor intended to keep things that way. The Imperial propaganda against Force-users had been effective, and the habits of even a young lifetime are hard to break.

Speaking of the Force… Now that she had collected her thoughts and could focus on the present, she was _aware_ of a humming sensation under her skin, similar to but weaker than the feeling she had around Leia and remembered from the one time she had met Luke Skywalker, and far less jarring than the one Kylo Ren had induced. Her patient was linked to the Force in some unusual way, probably a sensitive, maybe a potential user. Curious, she focused her senses on him, just as Leia had taught her in one of their infrequent training sessions. Sure enough, when she _looked_ at him in one way (her sense-impression way, as she thought of it) the picture that formed was of the first green shoots of spring, the ones that tell you that winter is well and truly over and summer will come before you know it. Potential, waiting to be unlocked. _Looking_ at him another way – her sun-and-shade way, in her private classification system – gave her an image of light, bonfire-like light but not as fierce, burning away a thin veneer of darkness that seemed to have been artificially imposed. That made sense. She knew who he was, of course. A stormtrooper who had rejected the First Order’s conditioning and jumped ship. Like everyone else, he had darkness of his own in among the light, but she didn’t think it stood a chance.

Her train of thought was interrupted when a second humming sensation joined the first, harmonising with it. Not Leia’s; this was something new. She looked up to see that a young woman, about her sister’s age (Catriona’s; no, nearer Teresa’s, now; she hadn’t seen her sisters in so long, she was losing track), had just come in. To Elinor’s still-active Force sense, she was a fruit tree in blossom, beautiful, vulnerable in some places and so strong in others, and promising so much, and also a star that burned so brightly, she had to stifle the impulse to shade her eyes. Darkness near the core, surprisingly strong, but firmly chained by the light. (That was a horrible mixed metaphor, but Force impressions didn’t always translate well.) She hadn’t seen Elinor; all her attention was on the patient. Elinor took a moment to study her through her physical eyes. She was dressed for a journey, not the impending evacuation but something solo-ish and less permanent, and had presumably come in to check on her friend before she left. Elinor waited until she’d said goodbye before deciding to put her mind at rest.

“He’s going to be fine. A few hours’ rest and he’ll be right as rain.” The woman seemed to register her presence for the first time.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Elinor, by the way.” She held out a hand.

“Rey.” Elinor knew that already. The Resistance gossip mill was efficient, and nurses listen.

“Pleased to meet you.” They both paused, figuring out where to go next. Oddly, Elinor had an impression of kinship of some kind. Not of experience; this girl’s life up to now had so clearly been completely different from Elinor’s sheltered mid-Rim childhood, or even her intense but supported training at Coruscant. Elinor might have had to fight hard to succeed, but she could tell Rey had fought even harder just to survive. Genetic? It was possible. There were enough gaps in her family’s records. Force-related? Most likely. That gave her an idea.

“You’re going off to find Master Skywalker, aren’t you? Best of luck – with finding him _and_ talking some sense into him.”

“Yes, that’s right. Do you know him?”

“I met him once, years ago. All the children in the New Republic were offered a basic test for Force ability, and I tested borderline. He gave me the choice to train with him or not, and I chose to stay with my parents. It didn’t feel like the right path for me, but I think it might be for you.”

As Rey worked out where to go from there (Elinor often had that effect on people), her commlink chimed, reminding her that she was supposed to be on the _Falcon_. “I’d better go. It was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise. May the Force be with you.” For once, the formal phrase didn’t feel silly in her mouth.

“You too. Look after Finn for me.” Rey left at a run, and Elinor started prepping her patient for transfer to the _Raddus_. She had a good feeling about both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, it’s not as though I haven’t had practice…_

Elinor never wanted to go through this again. The past half-day had been hell, pure and simple, as first a surprise attack had devastated the command deck and fighter bay, killing dozens and sending a tidal wave of patients – including Leia – through the _Raddus_ ’ tiny med-bay, and then the relentless pursuit had shredded everyone’s nerves along with most of their ships. And now this.

She was on one of the transports heading down to the surface of Crait, trying to maintain her external calm as ship after ship burned and life after life streamed past her. Probably by chance, although she was long past being able to tell, she was on the same ship as Leia and Captain Dameron. He’d been out cold when they’d boarded, but the stun-bolt had worn off and now he was just standing at the viewport, watching the carnage. She didn’t have to try to read his guilt, shame and concern. It cut even through the flood of agony and terror flowing in from all around them, adding up to _This is all my fault_. It wasn’t, she knew. Some of the blame might even be hers. She’d known about his, Finn’s and Rose Tico’s plan, and had chosen to pretend she didn’t. It had sounded reasonable. Too late now…

Without warning, one of the most unpleasant souls she’d ever touched brushed past hers on its way to the netherworld. It was dark and corrupted and power-hungry and _did not care_ about anything but itself, a concept she always found hard to accept. She could put a name to a being like that, even as she forced herself to treat this person as she would any other. _Sith_. Which one, though? And would that make a difference?

She reached out carefully to the _Supremacy_ , making sure to engage her mental passive-scanning mode. Her resolution was awful at this range, but it was better than nothing. There was Finn’s leaf-bud feeling, and the wild briar image she associated with the younger Tico sister. They were still alive, then. And Rey’s blossoming tree – what was she doing there? And there, close to her, the dark, forest-at-night sensation that meant Kylo Ren. That meant Snoke was dead. She had so many questions, but top of the list was _are we safe now_?

 _No_ appeared to be the answer to that. The bombardment didn’t show any signs of stopping, regardless of whatever had happened to the Supreme Leader. She knew Leia had been thinking, hoping, along the same lines. For a moment the sun had seemed to rise on Ren’s metaphorical forest, but it looked to be just a bright comet. Elinor turned her attention to the remainder of the fleet – and to the task of keeping herself in one mental piece.

Hang on, what was going on there? The _Raddus_ looked to be preparing to jump to hyperspace. Elinor didn’t know Vice-Admiral Holdo at all well, but she hadn’t struck her as a coward. Quite the reverse, Elinor realised, passive-scanning towards her as another part of her brain worked out the ship’s trajectory. She braced herself. This was going to be bad.

Even knowing what was about to happen, her vision still whited out as the _Raddus_ hit the _Supremacy_ at a high proportion of the speed of light. Holdo was killed instantly. So were scores, maybe hundreds, on the Star Destroyer. Others followed as a cascade effect ran through the damaged ship. _The price of our lives_ , she reminded herself. It didn’t help. Life shouldn’t have to pay for life.

When in doubt, do your job. Right at that moment, her job seemed to be consoling Captain Dameron. The mix of emotions she’d noticed earlier had intensified, and been joined by heartbreaking grief. He thought his friends were dead, executed as spies or killed by the impact. They hadn’t; it had been the first thing she’d checked once she could think straight. She couldn’t sense BB-8 – droids needed a different scanner setting, one she hadn’t mastered – but the little guy led a charmed life. He needed it. She couldn’t tell Dameron that she knew his friends were alive without telling him _how_ she knew, and she wasn’t ready to do that, but she had to do _something_.

Moving to his side, unnoticed, she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, careful not to touch his bare skin. Skin-to-skin contact enhanced her gift in both directions, and she was still carrying and picking up so much pain that she didn’t fully trust herself to contain it. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

A look of vague recognition crossed his face as he turned to look at her. She was used to that. Being just another girl was more useful than one might think. “What do you mean?”

“Finn and Rose. And your droid. They got this far, didn’t they? The Force will look after them.” She thought she’d messed it up, but he just gave her a wan smile and put his hand on hers. She only just managed to withdraw her emotions in time, and not pull her actual hand away. A small part of her wondered why her heart rate had just spiked, but it was largely ignored. “Thanks.”

Nobody else spoke as they made their way down to the planet. The rest of the First Order fleet would be hard on their heels. They needed to send their message and either barricade themselves in _very_ well or vanish again. Either would take a miracle, but they had hope. And where hope and the Force were, miracles generally followed.


	3. Chapter 3

This was getting monotonous. Even allowing for the reduced size of the medical team, being left on babysitting duty was starting to annoy Elinor. She was passing the time by fixing the jury-rigged medical gear more securely in place in the bunk room that had been commandeered to act as a med-bay, and keeping an eye out for the small birds that seemed to be all over the ship. Anything was better than thinking about the events of that day. Technically, the death toll from the Hosnian system and Starkiller Base had been far worse, but some quirk of evolution meant that their more recent losses had been more painful. People she _knew_ had died. She hadn’t always been able to tell which. One soul is usually very much like another at the point of death, and it wasn’t as though she made a habit of wandering through her friends’ minds. Even if telepathy had ever been her gift, that would just be rude. But she knew how many of her friends had been on the _Raddus_ , and how many hadn’t made it to Crait. From the perspective of the living, death is almost always a matter of subtraction.

She finished a particularly awkward reinforcement near the ceiling, which had required her to scramble halfway up the wall (never her favourite activity), and jumped down, startling the young man now standing next to her solitary patient. Even if she hadn’t recognised his face, the hum under her skin and general feeling of spring in the air would have been identification enough. No need to be forward, though. “Sorry about that. I didn’t see you come in.”

“It’s fine. I just wanted to see how she was doing.” One hand was lightly touching that of the young woman fast asleep in the one occupied bunk in the room. Elinor didn’t have to be an empath to read the signs.

“It was touch and go for a little while, but she’s on the mend now. Faster than we expected, actually.”

He looked relieved. “Yeah, she’s a fighter. Thank you.” His mood, which had lifted for a while, dropped like a stone. “It’s just – she wouldn’t’ve got hurt if I hadn’t been so _stupid_.”

Skies above (or not), not another one. Better head him off now. “Nothing to be done about that now. If you’re still beating yourself up when she’s awake, apologise and see what she says. Then you can both move on. Besides, you got her to us just in time. I’d say that paid off the life debt, wouldn’t you?” She tried for an encouraging smile and held out a hand. “I’m Elinor, by the way.”

“Finn.” He looked blankly at her outstretched hand, and she decided that it was not the time for an etiquette lesson. “Where’re you from?”

“Naboo, though I trained on Coruscant. You? – oh, I’m sorry.” She’d remembered too late that he almost certainly didn’t know. One more small wound inflicted by the First Order.

“No, it’s fine. I’d kinda like to know myself one day, but it’s not important.”

“I hope you do find out. It’s good to know where you come from, but you’re right – knowing who and where you are and where you’re going is more important.” She saw that he was starting to sway. “And when did you last get any proper sleep?”

His blank look was answer enough. “For goodness’ sake, go and _rest_ , then! That’s an order!” She regretted that immediately, knowing his history, but not enough to back down. “You’re no good to Rose or Rey or anyone else if you’re sleep-deprived.” Well, maybe she could back down a little. “Look, here’s my spare commlink. If anything changes, I’ll call you.”

She all but manhandled him out of the door along with some of the little birds (med-bay wasn’t the place for them, cute though they were) and turned back to her tasks. Just as she was starting to run out of busywork, a shift in the atmosphere she’d never quite managed to describe told her that her patient was about to wake up. The young woman opened her eyes and looked around the room before asking, stereotypically but quite reasonably, “Where am I?”

“The _Millennium Falcon_. We made it. How do you feel?”

“Sore all over. Where’s Finn?”

“I’m not surprised. How fast were you going? And if he’s taken my advice he’s getting some well-earned sleep. I can call him if you like.” Elinor picked up a portable scanner – low power, but sufficient for now – and checked her patient’s progress. She really was healing remarkably well.

“No, let him rest.” A pause. Rose might be awake, but she wasn’t quite firing on all thrusters yet. “I couldn’t let him die.”

“I know. Life shouldn’t have to pay for life – though yours nearly did. I do think you should talk to him soon, though. He’s probably still beating himself up, and the fewer people doing _that_ around here, the better.” They exchanged rueful smiles, knowing to whom she was referring. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Elinor.”

“I’m Rose. Rose Tico. I think my sister mentioned you once.”

Elinor raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t think Paige and I knew each other even _that_ well. I liked her a lot, though. She was a good egg.” The old-fashioned phrase had slipped out without her intending it. She hoped her tone had made the meaning clear.

“She was. An excellent egg.” It wasn’t very funny, or even funny at all in any other setting, but they needed to laugh. Somehow, Elinor managed to stop her laughter becoming tears until after Rose had gone back to sleep and another nurse had taken over patient-watch. She found a deserted corner and wept for Paige, for Rose, for Finn, for all the lives the First Order had stolen or torn apart or bent out of shape, and for all the people on Starkiller and the Dreadnought and the _Supremacy_ who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. _Water for the dead._ Maybe a few of those tears were for Snoke, even. She wouldn’t put it past herself. At last, she tidied herself up and went to find somewhere to sleep. Life went on, and despite everything, they were still together, still fighting. Where there’s life, there’s hope.


	4. Chapter 4

Elinor heard the _Falcon_ ’s engines before she saw her. Frankly, it was amazing that the old girl was still flying after all these years. She’d belonged to Lando Calrissian, then Han Solo, neither known for playing it safe. Made the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs. Survived Yavin, Hoth and Endor. Passed through a number of shady hands before Rey found her on Jakku. Handled Starkiller Base and Crait. A matter of hours before, she’d been _on fire_ after Poe’s latest crazy stunt. And now she was cruising in for a smooth landing as though nothing had happened. Corellian engineering: best in the galaxy.

She recognised this train of thought for what it was – a distraction. Her brain thinking about anything but what had just happened. Valid. She knew she’d have to face up to it some time, but _some time_ didn’t have to be now, did it?

She scanned towards the _Falcon_ ’s crew, hoping for some good news. There was the green-shoots presence that meant Finn, the metaphorical leaf buds unfurling now, the wild vine image that was Poe’s signature, the blend of earth and ocean tinged with engine oil she associated with Chewbacca and others she didn’t recognise. (Switching to droid mode, just for completeness, showed her BB-8, C-3PO – she thought, though something had changed about him – and another newcomer.) No grove of fruit trees in blossom, though, which meant no Rey. The guys were worried, but she didn’t sense any grief or guilt, which was good. That wouldn’t last.

She restrained her curiosity until she sensed-saw Poe heading straight for her. He’d already been given the news, thankfully. She’d been trained to break bad news gently, but nobody ever liked doing it. There was no need for him to tell her what was physically wrong with him. She’d sensed the blaster wound from across the base. Relatively light, but still in need of treatment.

He perched on her desk, right where she had told him so many times _not_ to do so. It was still endearing, even if his antics didn’t set her heart fluttering any more. Their romance, such as it had ever been, hadn’t survived Palpatine’s return, but they were still close. Being friends was so much more straightforward than being together, and just as much fun. “Hello, _setara._ Miss me?” It was routine teasing, his heart not really in it.

She responded in kind. “Hello, _beratna_. Someone else didn’t, I see. Roll up your sleeve.” He gave her a mock-stern look, and she sighed. He’d been told _that_ , too. “ _Please_ roll up your sleeve, _General_.”

As he complied, and she treated the wound and put his arm in a sling, he summarised their mission to track down the Sith wayfinder that would have showed them the way to Exegol. She was particularly interested to learn the identity of their spy. She’d met General Hux once – during the mission that ended with her and Poe getting together, as it happened – and had thought at the time that there was more to him than met the eye. As Poe continued with his story, she tried to scan out for him, but even without Palpatine’s presence she wouldn’t have had the range required.

Finally, Poe’s narration drew to an end, and she braced herself for the question she’d been dreading. “What happened?” His eyes flicked to the cave where Leia’s body still lay.

He wouldn’t ask if anyone else had told him – or rather, told him from a Force-user’s perspective. “She reached out to Ben through the Force. Even at the best of times, that type of projection over that distance is draining. Dangerous even if you’re young and perfectly healthy, and with the best will in the galaxy she was neither. It consumed all her strength, all her life force.” She paused, gathering her thoughts and strength. “She didn’t tell me what she was planning. I’d have helped if she had.”

“Yeah, and let her drain you dry. I _know_ you. You never keep anything back – well, almost never. D’you think it worked?”

“I can’t tell, but I think so. Something’s shifted, and not just _that_.” She indicated the cave. “It might be connected in some way with Rey going AWOL, as well. I can barely sense a thing through all this Sith fog, but she’s definitely not happy. All the same, I think we’re still in with a chance.”

“How? We’ve got no Jedi and no wayfinder, our fleet’s put together from scraps and I don’t have the first clue how to lead an army.” Part of her was vaguely flattered that he was admitting that to her. He never normally let himself be seen to be uncertain about anything. (But that was part of her job: to listen to what people needed to say, but didn’t want others to know. To hear, understand, and keep secret.)

“The Maker wills and the Force provides.” It was an old saying she’d always liked. “Trust them, trust Leia, trust the others and trust yourself. I _know_ we can do this.”

She did, in the unfathomable way she’d _known_ that she wasn’t meant to be a Jedi, or that she should join the Resistance. Her opinion was soon confirmed by the arrival of two excited droids and an equally agitated Finn, talking over each other about a signal from Luke Skywalker’s old X-wing. The campaign was back on. Without another word to her, Poe threw himself into planning and organising, while Elinor quietly started checking up on their medical supplies and tea stocks. Battles tended to deplete both of them. Let the others be the heroes; she was happy just to pick up the pieces.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have quite mixed feelings about this chapter and the Force-nonsense in it, so if anyone's actually reading this, some feedback would be much appreciated.
> 
> (I apologise if I've mixed up the precise chronology a bit. I've only seen The Rise of Skywalker once.)

There were only so many times one sane-ish person could check an inventory, Elinor finally conceded. And while she considered sanity overrated, she did at least have to be functional when the fleet came back from Exegol. Busywork could only get a person so far before it became pathologically obsessive behaviour. She decided to try meditating. It always used to help, before Palpatine revealed himself and the Force filled with Sith fog. With any luck, he’d be too distracted to keep that up now.

Clearing her plan with Dr Kalonia, she headed back to her sleeping area and sat cross-legged on her bed, hands resting on her knees, palms up. The deep, slow breathing pattern that was apparently essential had become embedded in muscle-memory now. She closed her eyes and let a mantra suggest itself. Much to her surprise, it was one Rey had been using a lot lately, but she never had. She’d never needed it. _Be with me… be with me… be with me…_

Someone _was_ with her, and the sensation nearly caused her to jump out of her skin, eyes snapping open. The visitor was a young woman, mid- to late twenties at a guess, stunningly beautiful and strangely familiar. With a second, smaller shock, she realised why. Her daughter had been Elinor’s mentor and commander-in-chief for the best part of two years. And, of course, every child of both species on their homeworld knew her name and story.

“Greetings, Senator Amidala.” Elinor bowed her head, honouring one of Naboo’s greatest queens and finest representatives.

“There’s no time for all of that.” The familiar accent of home made Elinor’s heart ache. “Do you want to help your friends?”

“Of course, but what can _I_ do? Except wait here to bandage wounds, make tea and be cried on when they come home.”

“You can do much more than that.” The senator looked her straight in the eyes, and for once hers didn’t wander off and do their own thing. “You’ve walked with people to the gates of death, but have you ever been beyond? The World Between Worlds?”

“No.” She’d glimpsed it, once or twice, but the stories had put her off for life – or so she’d thought.

“Among other things, it’s a short cut to anywhere in space and time. We can use it to get to Exegol, at least in spirit. And with your gift, it’s spirit that counts, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.” That was one way of putting it. “Why do you need me, though? And what do you intend to do there?”

“Palpatine’s blocking me from the whole sector. He’s blocking all of us. But you’re his blood-kin; you can get through. I just want to make sure my grandson’s safe.” Kylo Ren. Ben Solo, now, Elinor was sure. “What you do there is your choice, but I’m sure you will do your duty.” She was right – about everything, as far as Elinor could tell. Drat. Duty to the Naboo was usually everything, especially in her family. And she _was_ Palpatine’s blood-kin, though she tried to forget it. Second cousin twice removed, to be exact. Just one query before they got started…

“Us?”

“All the Jedi still in the World Between Worlds, and a few other Force-touched. The Jedi have another way through, but I wanted to do it like this. You’re _my_ kin, as well.” That was also true, Elinor now recalled. On her mother’s side, she was connected to the Naberrie family, of which Padmé was a member. Sensing agreement, the ghost-woman reached out to her cousin, who braced herself and took her hands.

The physical world vanished. Sense-impressions whirled past – desert, snow, forest, mountain, ocean, tundra, and endless, endless space – as a force stronger than gravity pulled them towards their destination. It took a little while for Elinor to marshal her thoughts enough to ask, “What’s pulling us?”

“I took the liberty of anchoring us to people I knew would be there. Ben is my anchor; Rey is yours.”

“Rey?” She’d acted as Rey’s anchor to reality sometimes, when Leia was teaching them some of the more unusual and dangerous techniques. She supposed it could work the other way around. But with the clarity that came with this proximity to one another, here with no bodies to get in the way, she knew that there was more to it than that. “She’s my blood-kin? The other way in?”

“His granddaughter, in a sense.” A complicated and horrible sense. She reminded herself that heredity wasn’t everything. If she needed proof of that, Rey was it.

Before Elinor could fully digest the implications, the journey was over and they parted ways. Padmé was interested in the planet’s surface, and a great stone cathedral that had to be Palpatine’s fortress. Only the Sith could be that showy and that gloomy at the same time. Elinor’s duty lay in the skies, with her comrades and soon-to-be-fallen enemies.

Unseen, hopefully unnoticed, she spun from mind to mind, encouraging, calming, removing pain and fear. She’d never spirit-walked like this before, never eased so many souls’ passage to the netherworld without immediate consequences, never tried to inspire a whole army one by one. Hopefully, she’d never have to do so again. She sensed Poe’s grief as his friends were shot down, and his joy as one returned that he’d given up for dead. Finn’s determination to do everything he could, and Rose’s despair and exasperation as he risked his life yet again and she couldn’t stop him this time. Hopelessness as Sith lightning engulfed the fleet; triumph as it vanished, and more triumph as Lando’s reinforcements arrived. And always, everywhere, _pain_. From the X-wing and TIE pilots, the Star Destroyer crews, and everyone in between. She knew she was storing up serious trouble for herself, and didn’t care. This was her _duty_.

Sooner or later, though, she was going to bite off more than she could chew. As (she later learned) Sith lightning reflected off Rey’s sabres raked through the cathedral, killing many of its occupants, Elinor couldn’t stop herself trying to take all their pain at once. Combined with the city-sized starships whose crews she’d accompanied to whatever awaited them next, and all the others she’d helped, it was enough to shock her soul back to her body – which was, indeed, in serious trouble.

It was a good thing she was in the habit of keeping a bowl of cold water near her bed for just such an emergency. Vision blurring, heart hammering, lungs operating only because of her medication, she plunged her hands into it more by luck than design and transferred the stored pain to the water as heat as fast as her nerves could take. Before long, it was scalding hot, but that could be fixed by externalising fear instead to cool it down and repeating the process until she could at least see straight. Cursing herself and her sense of duty, she focused on the face in front of her. It was Padmé’s. She must have come back when Elinor’s spirit did.

“Well done,” she said. “I’m proud of you.” She vanished, possibly off to look for her grandson again. Pain was still the major theme in Elinor’s mental symphony, but she could register that the fog in the Force had gone. Whatever had happened, Palpatine’s jamming signal, presumably with the rest of him, was no more.

She finished jettisoning the final agony and terror that so many people should have felt, vaguely proud of herself for holding on to her previous meal amid all the shenanigans, then lay down and cried until she had no tears left. For everyone who had died so that the galaxy could be free, and everyone who had loved them. For the wasted potential of the men and women tricked or forced into serving the Final Order. Many might not otherwise be mourned. Even for Sheev Palpatine. She’d sensed his power even from a distance. What a Jedi he would have made! And what a Jedi his granddaughter would make, or anything else she chose to be.

Speaking of… As she made herself presentable once more and applied salve to the burns on her hands, she called up certain files on her datapad and made a few edits. Yes, she’d been right. What would Rey say to this, she wondered?

A general kerfuffle outside indicated that the fleet was on its way home. Elinor double-checked her appearance and headed out, bracing herself for a seemingly never-ending round of calls on her time, skills and patience. Still, it was what she’d signed up for. And in between she’d get to see her friends and be happy that the threat to the galaxy was, at worst, immensely reduced. There was still work to be done, but once everyone was patched up it could wait. Like Liberation, today was for living in the moment.


	6. Epilogue

It was a few days after the Resistance fleet’s triumphant return from Exegol. Elinor had been living on caf and tarine as the medical corps tackled the physical and mental fallout from the worst battle in living memory. (All right, maybe not given Maz Kanata’s lifespan, but certainly living memory for most species.) This was the first opportunity she’d had for a proper, private conversation with Rey. Two rounds of tea had come and gone as they compared notes. Elinor explained about Padmé’s visit and her impromptu spirit walk; Rey filled her in on her last fight with Ben, her flight to Ahch-To, Luke’s advice, and the final confrontation with Palpatine.

Rey had been surprised when Elinor took the news of her relationship to the ex-Emperor in her stride, until Elinor called up the files she’d been working on. They were genealogical records, hacked with Rose’s help from Elinor’s father’s ongoing project to chronicle his daughters’ family history. A bit of research had revealed a couple of side branches, one that led to Sheev Palpatine and thus Rey and another that led to Padmé Amidala and Ben Solo. Elinor had known for a long time that she had Palpatine blood on her father’s side. It was linked to the low-level, usually latent Force ability that ran in her family. It was also tinged with the Dark Side, but usually not strongly enough to counteract the pull to the Light that ran through Naboo culture. It had its perks, though.

“Watch this,” Elinor had said, focusing on the air between her thumb and forefinger. A spark had jumped the gap, looking for all the galaxy like Sith lightning, but under the command of someone who could not have been more firmly Light Side if she tried. She’d just _known_ how to do it, the day after Exegol, although getting it properly under control had been problematic at first. There were definite upsides to not being incredibly powerful. When she messed up, fewer people got hurt.

Now, slowly and hesitantly, Rey was telling her about her temporary death and Ben’s sacrifice. Elinor folded her heart-sister in a virtual, then physical, embrace as they wept together. Not just Rey, she realised, cursing her roaming senses.

“I’m going to bring him back,” Rey finally confided, once the tears had dried up. “I’ve been talking to Luke. We think we know how to do it, but I might need your help.”

“You’ll have it. I give you my word of honour, I’ll always be there for all three of you, whatever happens.” Bother! She hadn’t meant to let that slip.

Too much to hope that Rey hadn’t noticed. Especially as Elinor’s treacherous eyes had fastened on her cousin’s lower abdomen. “You know?”

“I did enough rotations in obstetrics and gynaecology. I know how to tell, even this early. And it does make a crazy kind of sense that him giving you his life could also help create a new person. It’s _all right_. I won’t tell anyone anything you don’t want me to tell. Our secret, at least for now.”

“Our secret.” Another round of hugs, this one full of laughter and joy, and more tea. A free galaxy, friends, new gifts, new love, new challenges, and the next generation already on the way: the future looked bright indeed.


End file.
